


Take a Shot

by Timeforelfnonsense



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-02-28 05:28:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18749944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Timeforelfnonsense/pseuds/Timeforelfnonsense
Summary: Sylvas teaches Alistair some archery and tires to talk about her feelings. “There’s only a handful of people in this world that I actually like. You may or may not be one of them.”3/9/19





	Take a Shot

Alistair sat on the other side of the fire watching as Slyvas carefully fletched her arrows. He dragged a wet stone across the long edge of his sword and watched her carefully check the balance of the arrow in her hand before adding it to the pile at her feet. She had been warming up to him, slowly but surely. They would chat a bit on the road, he’d ask her questions or crack a joke. He loved to make her smile, the world was grim and her laughter was like sunshine. He looked up from his sword to steal a glance of her. He found himself doing that more and more lately. Her brows knitted together, wrinkling the thin rust colored line of her tattoos that ran down the bridge of her nose; he had noticed they always did when she was thinking. Her soft curls were falling into her angled face from the messy bun on the top of her head. She attempted to blow them out of the way, her hand occupied with her work. Nimble fingers adjusted each arrow with thoughtful attention. She looked up, her stormy eyes locking with his. A raised eyebrow- a wordless can I help you. 

“So… Do you normally make your own arrows?”

Not his smoothest recovery but it would due.

“I learned when I was still a hunting apprentice, on a long hunt it’s a useful skill.”

“Could you teach me?” He asked, laying his sword down before scooting next to her.

“I suppose I could, however I don’t see how the skill is of much use to you.”

“I’m hurt Sylvas! I could be a great archer. Perhaps I just don’t want to make you and Leliana feel bad.”

She finished the arrow in her hand, placing it and the rest of the pile into her quiver. She grabbed her bow from it’s resting place beside her, hands gently plucking at the tight string.

“Alright Shem, show me what you can do.”

He followed her to a tree a short walk from the camp, its branches twisted and dead. She stood a distance from her target, pulling the bow from her pack. She lossed three arrows in rapid succession. The brown and white feathers of their felching a blur as they whizzed past. Each landed in the old tree with heavy thunk, one after the other. The wood around them splintering slightly, the arrows still wobbling from the impact. She gave him a smug grin before tossing him the bow.

It was lighter than he had expected, he rolled it over in his hand, the wood was strange- almost blue in color. his thumb ran over a symbol carved into, the constellation Fervanis. This bow wasn’t like the one Leliana carried, it wasn’t like any weapon he’d seen before. It sang, almost like lyrium, if you listened closely. A perfect weapon for Sylvas, other worldly and beautiful.

“I don’t know about this,” He started to hand her the bow back, “This bow is…special. I don’t want to break it.”

“Alistair” She pushed the bow back to him, “This bow is made of ironbark by my clan’s craft master. It would take an ogre to snap it and that’s debatable.”

“Okay, okay, stand back. I hope you are ready to be amazed.”

Alistair took the bow up, Sylvas handing him an arrow. It was shaky in his hand the string resistant as he pulled back. When he let go the arrow softly fell a only a foot or so away in the grass. His cheeks warmed and she tried to conceal her giggle.

“Were you amazed?” His voice was sheepish, “I think I’ll stick to my sword though. Can’t put you out of a job.”

“Ha ha, very funny. Here,” She walked behind him placing slender hands on his arms, “hold the bow like this. Now lower your elbow on the drawing arm. Good, you got it.”

“Like this?” He turned a bit to look at her, eyes linger a moment too long, as they always seemed to when she was around.

“Yes, but it helps if you look at the target” She rolled her eyes and tapped him on the cheek before pointing back at the tree, “Now close your eyes,” She instructions slowly lifting her arms away from him, “Listen to the wind, visualize your target, then open your eyes and fire!”

This time the arrow flew past the tree crashing into the woods with a distant snap. Alistair winced at the far off crack, pulling his shoulder tight to his ears, 

His face went bright red, “Your arrow! I’ll go fetch it for you, if you’d like?” 

“Don’t worry about it,” She consoled, “Some of us are just more suited to elegant, ranged weaponry and some of us hit things with swords.” 

“Than I guess we make a good team. You with your weird magic bow and me with my glorified stick and shield.”

He earned another laugh, her nose crinkled and her fierce beauty changed into something softer but no less enchanting.

Nerves like bolt of electricity hit him when he felt her rest her head against him. She never had seemed the affectionate sort, always guarded and just out of reach. She just stayed like that for a while, silent but close. He wondered if she could hear his hear trying to escape his chest. He placed a careful arm around her shoulders. He wondered if she’d recoil. Instead she tucked herself under his arm and let out a soft breath. 

“You know,” She hesitated, looking up at him for a moment, “There’s only a handful of people in this world that I actually like. You may or may not be one of them.” 

He was blushing like a fool and he wasn’t exactly sure what to say. He rubbed soft circles on her arm. Part of his mind was begging to blurt out how he felt about her. The other part was terrified if he did she’d be lost to him forever.

“Thank you,” He pulled her closer to his side, “I think I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He looked down at her, fidgeting with a loss curl, her eyes fixed on the ground. Strange to see her this way, the pragmatic, self-assured persona peeling away. Maybe she was as nervous as him? Though he doubted that.

“Well, I’m bad at stuff like that but there it was. How about we pretend this little conversation never happened and we go back to camp?” 

“Not a chance,” He chucked, “let’s stay awhile.”


End file.
